


The After and the Dawn-Joe

by AlannaofRoses



Series: Old Guard Post Credits [3]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Gay Immortal Parents and Their Adopted Immortal Children, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, non-graphic nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlannaofRoses/pseuds/AlannaofRoses
Summary: Set between the Pub and going back to Copley, Joe and Nicky take care of their teammates and each other as they adjust to Andy's mortality and their newest charge.I have now made this a series of sorts. Each story tells the same events from a different perspective. You do not have to read them in any order or even read all of them.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Old Guard Post Credits [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855519
Comments: 16
Kudos: 282





	The After and the Dawn-Joe

They leave Booker standing on the beach.

Joe takes the driver’s seat, and Nicky climbs into the front with him. Normally after a mission they prefer the back so they can sit pressed together, but neither Nile nor Andy knows the location of this particular safe house. Nicky is both less fond of driving and still covered in blood and brain matter, so that leaves Joe.

He doesn’t mind, especially since Nicky entwines their fingers as soon as he’s seated.

They aren’t okay, either of them. Nicky hasn’t said a word since the bar. Joe is louder about his displeasure, but they both know his anger is just a cover for his own fear. What Booker had done, what he had let happen…

Joe sooths his thumb over Nicky’s knuckles, trying desperately to ground them both until they can fall apart in private.

If it were just Andy, they wouldn’t care so much, but Nile was so young, so new. Facing her own grief. She didn’t need theirs too.

Andy and Nile are asleep before they even leave London, Andy’s newly mortal body harder to ignore than ever, and Nile still unused to the demands of immortality. He can see Nicky watching them in the rearview mirror. His gaze is half fond, half heartbreak.

There is so much they need to unpack. Sometimes decades seem to take only seconds, and then there are times like these, when Joe thinks they have aged centuries in less than a week. Nile’s first death, Andy’s mortality, Booker’s betrayal. Merrick and the lab and capture and so many deaths for such a short time frame.

It never gets easier.

He sees Nicky relax as he pulls into their cottage, Andy and Nile stirring in the back as the road changes from smooth and paved to the bumpy gravel of the drive. He reluctantly lets go of Nicky’s hand so they can all pile out.

Joe winks at Nicky over the trunk, quipping, “It’s not quite Malta, but it’ll do.” in Italian.

Nicky laughs, and it’s the best thing Joe has heard since the last time his love gasped awake after that bastard shot him. It was not the worst death Nicky had had, but it was the worst in a very long time.

Not long enough.

He needs his Nicolo like he needs air. Needs to kiss the back of his head, the wounds made by bullets and forceps and needles. Needs to hold him until the ugly, awful fear of separation is washed away by his beating heart.

Still, there are things that must be dealt with first.

Andy is pale and grey, refusing to admit that she is utterly spent. But Joe knows her, and as awful as it is to see her weak and in pain, he knows what she needs.

He shadows her steps until she goes down, and then he scoops her up like a child, like a most precious burden, and he carries her into the bedroom.

He casts a glance over his shoulder to Nicky and gets a nod in return, not needing words to tell his lover what is next. Nile glances between them, but he leaves her to Nicky. His love was always better at explanations.

He sets Andy down on the bed delicately, and gets a glare in return.

“You know I can still kick your ass.” She rasps.

He chuckles. “Yes Boss.”

She narrows her eyes at him, but lets him help her remove her boots and jacket, settling her on a mound of pillows. He fusses perhaps a bit more than he really needs to, and to his surprise Andy lets him. He suspects she is feeling fragile in a way that has nothing to do with mortality right now.

He can relate.

He kneels to check her bandages, and she moves, pressing her lips against his forehead, a hand tangled in his hair to hold him close.

He freezes. Then the comfort of it washes over him and he strangles the sheet between his fists, blinking back emotion against her steady presence.

It soothes something deep within him. By the time she lets go, he feels a little steadier, and little more able to handle the next things.

“We don’t bite.”

Its Nicky, his voice raised to call to Nile and to warn them of impending company.

Joe calls back, “Speak for yourself.”

He’s grateful for the levity, and it also lets Nicky know the way is clear.

His love enters, carrying the old first aid kit they kept in every safe house. Nicky would practice, sometimes, on Joe. Bandaging already faded wounds, wrapping already healed ribs, splinting already mended bones. His love had always had a healer’s heart.

“Do, uh… do any of you know how to patch up a bullet wound?”

Nile sounds so young. Joe can’t help the snort that escapes him. He thinks fondly of the years ahead of her, wondering what skills she will choose to pick up in her spare time as Nicky explains.

And then Nile is curling up next to Andy, their leader brushing a gentle hair over the girl’s braids as Nile’s eyes drift shut. The three of them exchange fond glances. It’s nice having a new one, even if she can’t quite fill the gaping hole that is Booker’s absence.

Nicky rounds the bed to take Joe’s place at Andy’s side, and Joe rises. “I’ll go make something to eat.” He offers.

Andy nods, and Nicky manages a smile as Joe grips his shoulder for just a moment, grounding them both. It’s hard, leaving Nicky behind, even if it’s just to go to the kitchen. After a day like today, it will be weeks if not months before he is comfortable with having his love out of his sight.

Still, cooking calms him, as it always has, and he manages to lose himself briefly in the soothing rhythm of chopping and stirring. Eventually, he hears whisper-soft footsteps, and Nicky’s arms wrap around him from behind. Joe melts into the embrace, momentarily leaving the meal to its fate as he relishes the contact.

Nicky noses at his neck, the two men syncing their breathing until they are one.

“You know, I was thinking about Malta.” Nicky says quietly.

Joe smiles softly. “Which time in Malta?”

Nicky lifts Joe’s left hand and kisses his ring finger.

Joe leans into him, closing his eyes. “Oh. That time in Malta.”

“Your food is burning.” Nicky said eventually.

“Let it.”

“Joe…”

“I know.” He pulled away from Nicky reluctantly, rescuing the food. It wasn’t burnt, of course, only slightly more cooked than it should have been. But Nicky is right. They have time. Right now, Andy needs them. Nile needs them. It hits Joe, all at once, that he and Nicky will soon be the senior members of the team. Quynh is gone, Lykon is dead, and Andy is mortal.

It’s not a happy realization.

They don’t know what makes an immortal mortal again, if it is times died or intent or some random ticking timer, but being the oldest immortals left it stands to reason that he and Nicky are next, and that is not a path Joe wants to think about tonight.

Nicky takes the plate of food from him, their fingers touching for a long moment. “Start the shower, please?” Nicky asks softly. “I’ll take this in to Andy.”

Joe nods, suddenly bone weary. He puts the food on a low simmer to stay warm until they are ready and goes into the master suite to start the shower.

By the time Nicky returns, steam is filling the room pleasantly.

“Andy is asleep.” Nicky murmurs. “A bit of food and she drifted right off next to Nile.”

Joe hums, unable to process enough words to give a coherent reply.

“Yusef.” Nicky wraps his arms around Joe from behind, solid and steady and warm and alive, and Joe feels himself sag into the hold, his body releasing the tension that had kept him upright since they’d been unstrapped from the lab tables. Nicky’s hands trailed over Joe’s sides, soothing and rhythmic. Joe can feel his heart beat against his shoulder blade as they hold one another for a long time.

It’s Nicky who breaks the moment, eventually, pressing his nose into Joe’s neck. “We should get clean, my heart.”

They strip, quickly and efficiently, their hands moving in a dance that has long since become familiar. Joe steps in first, checking the water temperature against his wrist before Nicky joins him under the spray. They wash each other, paying careful attention to places where the other was injured. Nicky presses kisses to Joe’s wrists where the cuffs had cut into his skin, skims his hands along Joe’s stomach where Kozak had cut into him for her samples. Joe pays careful attention to the back of Nicky’s head, scratching his nails against the scalp in a way that makes Nicky go soft and boneless against him. Stab wounds, gunshot wounds, needle pricks. They remember each and every injury the other had suffered, and the few they hadn’t been there to see were gently pointed out by the other so the ritual could be completed.

They had decided long ago not to hide wounds from each other. Whatever pain it might spare in the moment, it was worse to wake dreaming of an injury your partner couldn’t know or soothe.

The bathroom is a haze of steam by the time they emerge, and they decide wordlessly to stay in the warmth a bit longer, curling naked on their towels and letting the air dry them as they simply hold each other and breathe.

It will be a long time before they will be able to sleep, Joe knows, and even longer before sleep will hold any peace for them. But this is almost as good, for the moment, drifting on a cloud with Nicky in his arms, safe and together.

They might have stayed like that all night if Nicky hadn’t suddenly stiffened.

“Mmmm?” Joe asked.

Nicky listened for a moment, and then sighed. “Nile.”

“Getting food?” Joe yawned, putting his head back down.

But Nicky shook his head. “Crying.” He answered softly.

Oh. For a brief, horrible moment, Joe wants to ignore it. To pull Nicky back to him and drift off back to a place free of all the pain the world outside held. But Nile has no one else. She needs them.

Nicky is already rising, his soft heart unable to bear pain without trying to soothe it. Joe follows him up, and they dress quickly, pulling on soft, loose clothes.

They pad out into the living room on silent feet, Nicky clicking on the hall light to illuminate the space. Nile is curled against the armchair, her face buried in her hands, clearly trying to be quiet but unable to contain her grief.

Joe and Nicky lock eyes, and they nod in sync, Joe brushing a kiss against his lips before he goes to Nile.

“Sorry, sorry.” She sobs as he settles himself beside her, but he merely shakes his head and gathers her up.

He holds her together as she keens into his chest, rocking them slightly in comfort. He is aware of Nicky in the kitchen, the other man melting together chocolate and heated milk, a drink they often turned to after nightmares. He suspected Nicky would add a bit more sugar to this batch than usual. Nile was American, after all.

American and so, so young. He estimates she must be in her upper twenties, as far as a normal lifespan goes. Certainly not a child, but not yet crowned with the wisdom of age. Just starting out.

He realizes, with a pang, that this is probably the worst loss she has ever faced. He doesn’t pretend it will be the worst one in her now very long life, but her pain in this moment is real and huge and all-encompassing.

So he lets her cry as long as she needs to, doesn’t let go even when her breathing begins to even out, when her sobs turn to quiet sniffles. He only loosens his grip slightly when Nicky offers her the hot chocolate, letting her turn in his arms so she can hold the cup to her lips.

She leans against him almost instinctually as she drinks it, her shoulder pressing into his chest. So trusting, already. Nicky is watching her, something in his eyes that makes Joe’s heart skip a beat. When Nicky squeezes his shoulder, moving past, they share a look full of meaning, and Joe knows.

Nile is watching them now, still clutching her empty cup, and she can’t read them yet. She ducks her head. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“We weren’t sleeping.” Joe assures her. “We don’t sleep well, after…” He trails off, unsure what the end of the sentence would be.

Nile seems to understand anyway.

“I should get Nile some food.” Nicky tells Joe, before turning to Nile. “I’m sure you are hungry.”

She nods, and slips from Joe’s hold. He misses her as soon as she’s gone, his arms feeling empty in a way usually reserved for Nicky.

They are in so much trouble.

He sees it on Nicky’s face too, this helpless love for their newest team mate, their youngest. It has been so long, and Booker hadn’t needed them in the same way, still clinging to his mortal family.

But Nile. Nile was theirs. To protect and teach and show the world to. Joe was going to love every minute of it.

He presses a kiss against Nicky’s mouth as he passes, and he sees his thoughts reflected in Nicky’s eyes.

Whatever may come, they would face it together.

As a family.


End file.
